


How to make a garden 101

by TheBloodofAngryBabes



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Lovers, Garden Centre AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 19:59:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16102748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBloodofAngryBabes/pseuds/TheBloodofAngryBabes
Summary: Enjolras and Combeferre have a new house with a garden, and someone thinks it's a good idea to send city mouse Enjolras to the garden centre.





	How to make a garden 101

“Just get a few things”, Combeferre said to Enjolras where he stood in a pile of dirt and soggy leaves. “The important stuff, you know.”  
The last snow had finally melted and left the small garden behind his and Enjolras’s new house a brown patch of lost potential. They had moved into the house in February and hadn’t thought about the existence of the garden until now, but as soon as the snow had disappeared, Combeferre had realised that they had to do something about it. Nothing much, just a few plants for the flower beds, maybe a couple of chairs for when the sun came out. After all, none of them was much of a gardener. They hadn’t even wanted a garden, since they were both students and didn’t really have time to take care of it. But, this small house had strangely enough been cheaper than any of the apartments they could find, and they needed somewhere to live. Courfeyrac had been jealous of them when he saw the pictures of the rental and had immediately started talking about how romantic it would be to sit under some fairy-lights on a warm summer night, whispering sweet nothings into his lover’s ear. Combeferre had blushed, Enjolras had looked uncomfortable, and Courfeyrac had dramatically exclaimed how unfair it was that two people who didn’t “get” fairy-lights got to have a garden when he had to be squeezed into a tiny one-room flat in the city centre. As if he wouldn’t be sleeping at Combeferre’s every single night after they’d moved in. 

Enjolras had never been to a garden centre in his life. In fact, he had barely been in a garden, growing up basically on top of a Starbucks in the heart of the city centre. But, since he had a driver’s license and a car, unlike Combeferre, he now stepped into the large green house on the outskirts of the city. A rich smell of soil and hundreds of flowers hit him as he moved down the centre aisle, past pots and concrete decorations. To be honest, he felt a bit lost. He wished Combeferre had given him a list of things to buy, not just the instruction to get the most necessary stuff. What was that even? Some flowers, probably. But surely something else too? What did Combeferre like? Maybe some kind of star-gazing equipment? Although, he probably had that already. What else? It hit him just as an employee showed up from around a corner. 

Grantaire had worked at the garden centre for three years now. After moving to the city, the store had become an oasis among all the concrete for the former country mouse, and he enjoyed it immensely. He loved taking care of the plants that where on display, restocking the bags of soil and manure, helping customers. Well, the last part was enjoyable most of the time at least, although some of the customers sure were idiots.

“Do you sell moths?”  
Grantaire looked up from the shovels he was about to arrange at the end of a shelf, and half expected to see one of his friends with a large grin on their face. Instead, a very serious blond man stared at him with intense eyes. It takes him a moment to really take in both the stranger’s appearance and his strange question. Was this man serious? Surely, he knew that you didn’t buy moths in a store, they just sort of showed up.  
“Moths?” Grantaire asked, because maybe he had heard it wrong.  
“Yeah, those flying things.” Apparently not. The man was just stupid.  
“No… We don’t sell moths”, he replied with a sceptical look towards the customer. “You can’t buy moths.”  
“Right.” Enjolras nodded as if Grantaire had told him that a new shipping of moths would come through in a few days. “What about butterflies? Doesn’t matter what kind.”  
“Are you fucking with me?” This was of course a very unprofessional question, but it was really hot today and Grantaire should have had his break an hour ago and he did not have the patience for some bloody comedian pulling a weird prank on him.  
“Excuse me?” Enjolras was all for workers’ rights and completely understood that people in the service industry got tired, but he did still not expect to be asked such a question completely out of the blue! Why on earth would he be “fucking” with him? He was here to buy garden stuff, this was a garden centre after all! Obviously they should sell everything needed for a garden. Combeferre had asked him to get the most important things, and although he had not specified what this implied, Enjolras assumed that Combeferre had not meant a garden gnome! Had it been Courf who had sent him to the garden centre, he would have gone straight for the gnomes, but not for Ferre.  
“If you are not interested in helping me find what I need, feel free to help someone else.” Enjolras declared with a frown, turning to walk away from Grantaire. He planned to walk out of the store without another word to anyone, as this establishment apparently was very badly equipped for any garden-related purchases, but before he had walked more than ten metres, he heard the garden centre employee mutter something under his breath. It sounded a lot like “bloody gnome-fucker”. Enjolras was sure he probably mis-heard some part of it, but he was also certain the he couldn’t have misheard all of it, prompting him to turn back towards Grantaire again. The panic shown on Grantaire’s face made him realise that he probably had gotten all the words right anyway, and Grantaire’s hurried exit left Enjolras without a chance to reply to it.

Annoyed and slightly shocked (who said something like that?), Enjolras continued towards the exit. He would prefer to just storm out of the store, but he was a man of his word, and he had promised Combeferre to get them at least something for their garden. After all, they were supposed to have a house warming party in said garden tomorrow night. They could hardly do that without at least fixing it up a little bit beforehand, so on his way out, Enjolras picked up a few things, including a gnome with a saxophone and some fairy-lights. At least Courfeyrac would be happy.


End file.
